Eight Not at All Bitter Days A Week

I MISSED LAST WEEK AGAIN. Boo. I promise once musical is over I'll have time to blog again. For now, you get this.



Hahaha. I'm so funny.
(It's not really that funny.)

Eight Debates a Week

I'm watching the South Carolina debate... and they're talking about taxes... So this is what you get. (Yeah, I did miss last week. My bad.)

Here There Be Dragons

I have known those who lock up their love
In ventricular vaults, watch it glisten and gleam
Against blood-covered walls in their four chambered hearts.
They become dragons,
Clutching their gems in shivering claws
While lusting after love,
Still more love,
More jewels to fester blindly
In the darkness.

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I originally intended for this poem to be about why it's worth it to invest in people even though there's a risk factor. If you don't, all the love you have isn't worth a thing in the world. Now I think it can mean several things, though, so feel free to form your own opinion!

Misadventures in Choreography

Some people are endowed with incredible grace. They radiate elegance. They're effortlessly beautiful. They float instead of walk.

Today was my first real day of choreography. My dancing generally consists of cabbage-patching and head bobs and other such awkward movements. Alone. In my room. Where no one can see me.

Needless to say, I am not one of "those people."

This is my first and only year of being in musical, and as such I have never done choreography before in my life. Sometimes it's kinda cool to be the rookie who got the lead. Other times... it's not! (Haha.) I don't imagine it would be that bad if I was somewhere in the back, but when you have very little rhythm, next to no coordination, and zero experience, the front is not the place to be. Surrounded by twirling angels in oh-so-professional-looking jazz shoes who can plie and chinae and sashay, I'm struggling to even pivot on one foot in my trusty grey Cons. (Or spell those words, for that matter.)

I'M OUT OF MY LEAGUE, MAN.

It turns out that I don't know the first thing about being graceful. Apparently it's incredibly feminine to keep your feet together whenever possible. There is a massive difference between pointing your foot and pointing your toes. Swaying with the balls of your feet is far more elegant than swaying with your hips. Who knew? Not me.

All my life I've been blessed (or maybe burdened?) with being naturally good at stuff. I've never had to work very hard at academics to make the grade. I memorize things easily. Writing has always come somewhat naturally to me. As a general rule I don't have to work exceptionally hard at much of anything. At the risk of sounding incredibly vain, I'm a pretty talented person.

I'm entering a whole new world here. I'm gonna have to work really hard to accomplish something this time. It's kind of awesome. It's gonna take energy and sweat and coming home with muscle aches. It's gonna take practice and practice and more practice. But by the end, I think it'll go down as one of my greatest accomplishments. At least in my head.

I kept apologizing to Linda (our marvelous choreographer) today for messing up constantly. She wouldn't hear it. "Don't you even worry about it. You're gonna get it. You're gonna look fabulous."

Feet together. Point your toes. Smile.

An Awfully Big Adventure

Year-end blog posts are so annoying.

Some people can pull them off. I can't. I'm not old enough to be wise, rarely articulate enough to be profound. I'm a little too flowery to give a straight recap of my year. I'm too nostalgic not to talk about it at all. I want to ramble about my high hopes for next year, but to be quite honest the concept of 2012 is freaking me out a little bit.

At my kindergarten graduation they announced us as the class of 2012. At the time that was lightyears in the future. Now, it's right around the corner. Five months left. Five months. I can't decide if I'm overjoyed or terrified.

2011 was a good year. A crucial year. A turning point year in several ways. It contained a lot of shining moments that I'll remember for the rest of my life. The fireworks at Disneyland. Singing The Mountain Top song with Savannah on top of Devils Head. The Friday night Fall Show curtain call. Those little split seconds will stay with me until my dying day.

So saying goodbye to this year is bittersweet. It's been a lovely one. But that's the first adventure I'll have, I guess. A brand new year, currently free of mistakes and errors. And it's going to be a year for adventures, believe me.

I'm going to hit the stage in my first and last high school musical and have an absolute blast. I'm going to endeavor to make new friends even in the final hours. I'm going to graduate high school. I'm going to go to college. I'm going to take my first speaking engagement ever and see what I make of it.

Yup. Sounds like an adventure to me!

It doesn't count as an adventure if it isn't a little scary. I'm scared out of my wits. But it's the anticipatory scared, the going-up-the-hill-of-the-rollercoaster scared, the fantastic scared that you can never quite get enough of.

Or at least that's what I keep telling myself. :)

All year I've been ranting about how I'm still a kid. I figure kids have adventures better than anyone.

So long, 2011. You'll go down as one of my favorites.

Hello, 2012. You've been a long time coming.



:)

Don't Stop Believin'

There's just something about Christmas.

One of my themes (for lack of a better word) this year has been that I am still a kid. Even being a senior, 2011 has more than confirmed for me that childhood doesn't end at age eighteen. Which is an encouraging thought. :)

Christmas rolls into our house on Black Friday. As soon as Thanksgiving's over we deck the halls, and the stairwell, and the bathrooms, and the kitchen... and, of course, the tree. My mom's philosophy is that there's always room for one more ornament. One year we counted-- there are over five hundred ornaments on our (fake) Christmas tree. It's so old it leans way to one side now, but I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. All the ornaments tell a story-- a little Red Riding Hood for the year I got chicken pox on Halloween and couldn't actually go trick-or-treating dressed that way, apples bearing the names of everyone in the family (at least until my dog started eating those), and, most recently, a Tinkerbell ornament. If you press a button, fireworks light up behind her. (Yes, I cried.) My dad hoisted me on his shoulders to put the angel on the top, insisting I wasn't too big for it.

We haven't actually watched very many Christmas movies this season, but the other night we watched Annie. That movie IS my childhood. I can't tell you how many times I used to watch that. The other night I sang along. Every word. Still know all the songs. A few nights before we watched A Charlie Brown Christmas. I laughed at all the same parts I've been laughing at since I was eight.

Tonight we will lay out more cookies for Santa than anyone could conceivably eat (he can take some back to Mrs. Claus). We will watch It's a Wonderful Life, as tradition dictates, before going out on the lawn to spread out magical reindeer food. It sparkles on the snow to show the reindeer where to go. No matter how old I get I have to throw a handful onto the roof.

And you know what?

I will go to bed tonight and lie awake listening for jingle bells.

I was talking to my dad the other night about whether or not my brother still believes in Santa Claus. He's twelve, but if he doesn't, he's good at not letting on.

"I hope he still does," I said. "You get old enough and you want to believe it so bad. I mean deep down you know..."

"You know deep down that he's real!"

Precisely, Dad. Precisely. Life's so much more fun when you don't let logic get in the way of your belief in the impossible.

I wish you all the merriest of Christmases! Take the time to listen for the jingle bells.

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I hate to mess up the seriousness of this post, but it's Eight Days a Week...



I'm a Paul fan girl. Merry Christmas to all!

Eight Pretty Rockin' Awesome Days a Week

Fantastic last day of school followed by a three week break? Things are lookin' up. :)